Tired
by Aitnemed
Summary: She is tired of being lonely, and she will leave him... can he gain back her love or is he doomed to face the rest of his life without her? Who was she, how did they fall in love? ...And how will it all end?


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"I'm tired" she said softly, looking at him with tearful eyes that glistened in the near dark. She stood in the doorway, one of his shirts on and looking so beautiful and fragile and so _breakable_ that he wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her and love her.

_But he couldn't._

He couldn't go to her, because he knew that holding her and burying his head in the sand like all the other fools wouldn't fix things. He was needed here, in his office and he couldn't be with her right now.

"Then go to bed" he replied, just as quietly.

The fire crackled and spat abruptly and they both jumped. He didn't know why the atmosphere was so tense, or when it had got to that point, but he didn't like it…it made his heart ache. Yet he didn't know how to make it go away. It had been there so long they were now used to the elephant in the room, and since they had gotten tired, with their sleepy eyes it was harder to see it, easier to ignore it. But it was still there… it was always there.

He knew that wasn't what she meant when she said she was tired, but he hoped that she would leave it, just for tonight. Just so that when he returned to bed after hours of paperwork in the early hours of the morning he could wrap his arms around her and sleep with his face buried in her porcelain neck, taking in her wonderful scent. Because she knew he couldn't sleep without her.

But she wouldn't leave it.

_And he was tired too_.

"You know that's not what I mean" she murmured, coming forward to stand in front of him, casting a shadow over the paperwork he was already straining his eyes to see, cutting his light out completely. For some reason her actions filled him with a cutting, burning anger instead of merely irritating him. Because he _had_ to do this, why was she so determined to ruin it for him?

"Please, I have no time for your foolishness tonight, Cassiopeia, now either go to bed or actually say what you mean instead of this utter rubbish that you seem to come out with in recent days"

He knew he was being cruel and spiteful, but he couldn't help it.

He knew he was hurting her, but he didn't know how to stop being hurtful.

But he _didn't_ know about the tears he made her cry, not until one landed on the sheet of parchment in front of him, and he looked up to see more glistening on her beautiful face.

He raised a hand to wipe them away, to soothe her because he never meant to make her cry for he loved her and he hated to see her hurting. But she backed away from him, and in the better light, he saw the dark circles under her eyes, saw the way her collar bone was a little too apparent and cheekbones a little too obvious.

_He finally saw how tired she was. _

He stood to hold her, to apologise, to help her sleep because she was so tired, far more tired than he realised. But it was already too late.

"I'm tired Thomas" she said, and there was a sad finality to her tone that shook him. It was the voice of someone who was giving up, the voice of someone who had given all they had to give and had realised it was not enough.

"Please, Cassiopeia, I… I need you" he began, but she held up a hand, putting it to his lips.

"No, my heart, you do not need me… and I am tired, I want so badly to sleep and to stop all this hurt"

All the nights he stayed late, all the nights he didn't come home, he wasn't the only one not to get any sleep…He realised then that every night he left her alone under silken covers surrounded by some of the most fabulous jewels and clothing in the world, she watched the door anxiously awaiting his return. Money did not buy him her love, and each time he tried to replace his absence with gifts it became more clutter than treasure and another painful reminder that _he had no time for her_.

And that had broken her heart.

So now it broke his too.

He had never set out to do it, but over time as he wore himself down with a heavier workload, he gradually wore her down too and now they were both exhausted.

Raising a trembling hand, he reached for her, hoping this time she would not refuse him. Because how could he sleep without her? When the sound of her soft breathing was the most wonderful lullaby in the world, and the beating of her heart was a soothing melody to his tired ears, how could he live without her? Even just her voice could change his mood, his whole outlook on the day brightened by the way she crooned his name or said I love you or, if he were honest, anything at all. He came around his desk to stand before her, his own eyes boring into her wonderful ones.

She crumbled into him, falling to pieces before his eyes and it tore him apart. His arms came up to wrap around her, to encase her in his love and make her pain go away but he still felt the way her whole body shook with the sobs that poured from her body. He wasn't helping; he couldn't help her anymore because she was passed his help.

When she pulled away, he didn't fight her because as he opened his mouth he couldn't thing of a single thing to say- to make this right again. And he had nothing to say in his defence, to even things out because it really was his entire fault; it had just taken him too long to see. So instead of speaking he brushed back the single lock of hair that had fallen free of the loose plait that controlled the rest of her hair, and placed a single kiss on her forehead.

She shuddered beneath his touch.

Perhaps because it was now so foreign to her, for he had not had contact on a personal level recently. Even the casual touch of his hand on hers, seemed so unfamiliar to her, from the way she flinched as he did so- it hurt. But it was his fault.

"Thomas, I am sorry I cannot do this any longer" she murmured.

He would have begged, had he not realised that no amount of pleading on his part would have changed her decision. But he had realised, and it made his heart want to stop beating, it was better to just give up although he didn't know how he could carry on without her love. So instead of making excuses, and trying to talk her around to his point of view as he could do so skilfully with any other, he simply nodded and asked a single question.

"May I have one last night?" he murmured, his eyes finding her entrancing ones and loving how they pulled him in. There was no hesitation in her reply, a single nod had him moving swiftly towards her, only to have her meet him halfway and entangling her hands within his shorter hair as their lips met.

And it was love personified, when they kissed, as if their soul was being shared between them for she filled him with such warmth and he knew that he could never love another. She broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his and the familiarity stung. Cassiopeia was only a few centimetres shorted than him, and her arms wrapping around his neck and playing with his hair felt the most natural thing in the world. He pulled away slightly, gazing at her and enjoying the feel of Cassiopeia's warm breath just inches away from him and fanning his face gently. And she still smelt the same, of safety and sweetness- like chocolate and nice things… Maybe that was why he just couldn't give her up; he was addicted to chocolate too strangely enough.

Then she drew away, just as he brought his arms up to hold her. She took his hand in her small, delicate one, gifting him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen as she began to lead him out of his office. And he didn't look back, he just allowed himself to spend one last night with his wife, for tomorrow her side of the bed would be empty… and so would his heart. He had wasted many opportunities in his life, but this was one he would not, no,_ could not_ waste.


End file.
